


And We All Fall Down

by littleyounggun



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Gen, Psychological..., Rated for dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-16
Updated: 2011-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleyounggun/pseuds/littleyounggun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John just wants his friends to know that the battle isn't over. It's far from over. He'll do anything so that they can open their eyes and see.</p><p>Anything.</p><p>Dave doesn't understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We All Fall Down

**Author's Note:**

> Also found on Tumblr.  
> Bluh, okay, this was inspired by a very light and beautiful and fluffy [picture](http://rasuzu.tumblr.com/post/7444563455/thestrangefanatic-answered) (surprisingly). Something is seriously wrong with me for having this story born from that picture. Idon’teven. It was definitely fueled by this other picture right [here](http://small-gun.tumblr.com/post/7465794669/oh-ive-always-believed-this) and this song [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAyH3FlTjsE) along with this other one [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pM5g4i7VjDE).
> 
> Not sure what type of warning to slap on it? It’s pretty darkly themed, but I don’t want to say much… I'm also not sure if I should bump the rating. Suggestions?
> 
> Anyway, who’s right, who’s wrong, what’s real, what’s not: you decide.

\----ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at ??:?? ----

  
EB: dave!

EB: it’s time to rise and shine, sleepy knight.

EB: come on! it’s important.

TG: egbert the hell you want on a saturday at eleven in the goddamn morning

TG: why you gotta come in here and interrupt my dreams

TG: i was getting my swag on so hard

TG: dudes and dudettes were dropping all around me

TG: cars stopped and the lights changed for me

TG: the sea spread open wide for me to walk across

TG: motherfuckers showed respect

TG: oh wait im confusing my dreams with reality

EB: oh, that happens a lot, doesn’t it?

EB: well, not for long.

TG: what do you mean

EB: hehe, oh nothing!

TG: egbert shit what kind of idiot do you take me for

TG: alright fine

TG: i guess nows a good a time as any

TG: look i know somethings been going on with you

TG: and im not the only one whos noticed

TG: roses actually been badgering me to get on your case about it

TG: says youll listen to me better i guess

EB: dave, meet me on the roof!

TG: dude im trying to talk to

TG: wait

TG: what???

EB: just scroll up and read it, silly.

TG: the roof of my place

EB: yeah.

TG: what the hell

EB: just get up here!!

 

\---ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at ??:?? ----

 

It takes you six minutes and twelve seconds to roll out of bed, get dressed, and get up to the roof, using the flash step you had learned from your bro, of course. The door clangs shut behind you, but you pay it no mind, focusing solely on the blue clad figure before you.

John’s back is facing you, but he’s actually there like he said he was. You’re not really sure what else you were expecting, really. He’s there and he’s wearing clothes that you haven’t seen in years, clothes you never expected to see again, clothes you don’t even know how he managed to pull on, even less how they still fit him nicely. You’d say it was miraculous if the phrase didn’t sit so uncomfortably with you.

He’s at the edge. Whereas you’re usually silent, graceful, nimble, now you purposefully make a racket, groveling your feet into the rocks on the roof to make your presence more known. Any startled move on John’s part and you’d never be able to look at pancakes without wanting to be sick ever again.  
You stop a few feet behind him, but the frown on your face doesn’t have the same idea. He hasn’t acknowledged you, though there’s no way he doesn’t know you’re there unless he has gone deaf in the recent past and you were not informed.

You’re about to speak up, Egbert, bro, step away from there, come on, when his voice cuts through the wind.

“It never ended, you know.”

His voice is an eerie calm that makes you shiver, and you don’t know whether to be more afraid of that or the fact that it’s getting to you. You swallow, lick your lips, take a step closer.

“What never ended?”

“You still hear the ticking, don’t you?”

And suddenly it’s at the forefront of your mind, so loud and explosive in your ears you can almost see it behind your eyelids. That insisting beat that didn’t stop, never stopped, won’t stop, only got quieter- louder- pushed to the darkest part of your consciousness.

Your body doesn’t feel the same as you push a breath out. You feel disconnected.

Another step.

“It’s the same for Rose and Jade, too, except with their own powers. And me, too.”

“Dude, we…we already knew that. ‘S like crazy side effects of some type of supernatural drug, only instead of taking pills we played a game, we fought a war, but in the end we still fucked with our minds.”

“In the end…” Something slides out of his posture as he hums thoughtfully, making him look relaxed and so much more susceptible to losing his balance. Your own body tenses, heartbeat speeds up. You shuffle closer.

He spreads his arms, fingers fanning out as he sways them slowly, rhythmically. “It’s funny. It’s funny because it didn’t end. It won’t end.” He turns his upper body to look at you, finally, feet still planted in the same place though. Except that you don’t know what to do with yourself when he flashes the biggest smile, eyes shining with something you can’t name. “Not until we make it end.”

“Egbert.” Your voice is tense, you can hear it. You can feel it even. You hope he can’t. “We made it end years ago, come on. What are you talking about? Why are you even wearing those clothes? How did you—“

“Did it really?” His face blanks out and he turns back to the city, arms falling to his sides. His voice is flat as he says, “I think you’re all wrong.”

“Egbert, _please_ —“

“I know you’re all wrong. I can’t think of any other way to show you but like this.”

There’s an uncomfortable desperation scratching at you as images start clicking in place. All you want to do is get away, get away, get both of you away from there, away from the roof, away from this situation, and have things go back to normal. “Jesus Christ, John, it’s been years! Come on--”

“When you see it you’ll finally believe me.” Your teeth come down on your tongue as he turns around completely, arms stretched out towards you with a weary little smile on his face.

There’s a moment – a short moment, stretched to last for years in your mind – where everything stops. The ticking stops – your thoughts stop - your breath stops – your heart stops. John looks at you, and then the moment stops.

And he’s falling.

You lunge for John’s hand. You’re distantly surprised when you catch it even though you somehow shouldn’t have. It was like he had stopped in mid-air for you, just for that split second. You are suddenly stupefied and don’t know what to do with this hand in yours, with this revelation, only the time to decide has long since passed now that the roof of the building is no longer beneath your feet.

And you are weightless.

“Come fly with me, Dave.”

Your mind is reeling with nothing except the tic tic tic and maybe an occasional caw and you can’t tear your eyes off the ground, so far far far but rushing to meet you like people rushing out of a burning building.

There’s nothing in you, nothing but howling wind in your ears and air beneath your flesh. It’s all cotton in your head and space in your chest and maybe, maybe there’s something in your stomach. Something heavy. Perhaps it’s a clock. It would explain where the never ending sound comes from. Then again, maybe it’s a bomb because suddenly you feel it explode and shards of it run through you in the form of panic, and oh shit oh shit shit shit you’re actually not weightless at all. You’re falling and you’ve got nothing to grab onto except John so you cling to him painfully, probably drawing blood from him with your blunt nails, and you can’t stop looking down and oh fuck what the fuck why was this happening oh God oh God—

Suddenly there are hands grabbing your face, forcefully turning you to face the owner of them. John is still wearing that weary little smile, but his voice is laced with warmth and comfort as he says, “Don’t be afraid. We’ll just wake right back up where we left off.”

You don’t even know how you could hear him above all the noises battling for your attention, above all the clocks and the crows and the roar of the wind and the voices of Bro and Rose and Jade and, fuck, you try to speak, try to call out to John, but you can’t. Your mouth forms but no noise comes out. It only makes you all the more desperate. You want to shout, you want to scream, you want to call out to him, you want to say it all and say nothing, and you want to demand for him to fix it, and you want to ask him why.

He only looks at you pityingly, and it only makes you feel a bitter wave of worse. He lets go of your face, running his hands through your hair. “It’s okay, Dave,” he coos, “you don’t have to worry about the others. I think Jade was starting to see. She’ll bring Rose along soon enough.”

“ _Fuck_ …” strangles out of your mouth, eyes closing as the thought makes your stomach lurch. You don’t realize you’ve started crying until John wipes away the tears.

Suddenly the sound of screaming joins the cluster of chaos in your head. It’s only when you open your eyes again that you realize that it’s from the people below that are watching the two of you fall. It only makes you cling closer to John. You feel arms wrap around you, but it feels more restricting and final than comforting.

Your mind reels again with thoughts about what you should say, what you should do. You feel like you need to say something, anything. These are your last words, god fucking dammit holy fuck. This wasn’t even supposed to happen yet. You weren’t supposed to go out this way. You were either going to die a peaceful death as a very old man or you were going to fight it tooth and nail and blood and passion.

Not this mockery of yourself. Not this way. Not for this reason.

If you’d paid closer attention—

If you’d done something sooner—

“John,” you gasp, “John, I—“

“Shhh, you don’t have to say anything. This isn’t the end.”

You cry.

You let your eyes slide close, and you let go – let go physically and mentally and emotionally.

Let go of everything.

The wind tears at your hair, grasps at your clothes, fights against the shades you have miraculously managed to keep. There’s only ticking and cawing now, along with a strange niggling at the back of your mind.

But you feel lighter.

He whispers, “That’s it. There you go.”

You open your eyes and

 

 


End file.
